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John Damascene in Context PDF
John Damascene in Context PDF
Abstract
John Damascene’s work concerning “The Heresy of the Ishmaelites”
confronts Islam—a heresy according to John—with respect to
fundamental disagreements between Christians and Muslims
concerning the deity of Christ, the doctrine of the Trinity and the
authenticity of Muhammad’s prophethood and revelation. I argue
that John’s work was prompted and influenced by his context in
seventh-and eighth-century Byzantium. More specifically, my ar-
gument is that John’s firsthand understanding of Islam, the new
rhetoric of a heavenward focus within what had been the Roman
empire, the development of apologies and disputations concerning
Islam, and the growing tensions in Christian-Arab relations in
eighth-century Byzantium all influenced “The Heresy of the Ishma-
elites”—very likely the first polemic against Islam from the ortho-
dox Christian community.
The first chapter surveys the history of the Arab conquest, with
a special focus on the Ummayad Caliphate, under which John lived
and served. I also detail the effects of the Arab Conquest on the
Christian community, specifically that Arab rule signaled the end of
the persecution of the Jacobite and Nestorian churches. In my sec-
ond chapter I detail the Church’s attempt to deal with the fall of the
1 This chapter is s thesis submitted to Dr. Edward L. Smither in partial fulfillment
of the requirements for the Master of Arts in Global Apologetics at Liberty Baptist
Theological Seminary, Lynchburg, Virginia, May 9, 2009.
Roman Empire in the East, and how the call to orthodoxy stimu-
lated the growth of apologetic literature. My third chapter deals
with Christian-Arab relations in Byzantium and the tensions that
evolved as Islam began to make religious truth claims over and
against Christianity. My fourth chapter builds on the previous
three, analyzing John’s polemic and revealing those elements of cul-
ture, politics, education and religion that can be seen in his work. I
argue that these elements of context led him to consider Islam a
heresy—an understandable conclusion—and respond to that heresy
with an informed perspective, perfectly suited to provide the Byzan-
tine Christian community with an answer to the theological chal-
lenges coming from their Arab rulers.
This work is divided into four chapters. The first focuses on the
Arab conquest into Byzantium and the struggles for power within
the Arab leadership (the caliphate). There is also a discussion of the
effect of the transition of power on the theological disputes within
the Byzantine Christian community. The first chapter ends with a
more detailed examination of the life of John than that given above.
The second chapter describes the fall of triumphalism, a post-
Constantine ecclesiology that defended the claims of Christianity on
the basis of the victory of the Roman Empire. During the latter
parts of the Byzantine-Sassanid wars, triumphalism began to wane
and would later be replaced by a rhetoric that focused on the
Church’s struggle for internal purity and against heresy. This led
to the development of apologies to defend the faith and polemics to
attack the heresies, a shift which can be exemplified in the work of
John Damascene. The third chapter describes Arab-Christian rela-
tions under the caliphate focusing specifically on how the Christian
community perceived their new rulers and the Islamic faith. There
is also a discussion concerning how the caliphs exercised power
over their Christian subjects and how it is that John Damascene, a
Christian, was able to work in the court of the caliph. The fourth
chapter specifically focuses on John’s condemnation of the “Heresy
of the Ishmaelites” which is the designation he gives to the Muslim
faith. This tract against Islam is a small part of his work on her-
esies, De Haeresibus. The fourth chapter builds upon the foundation
laid in the first, second and third chapters, using the reader’s en-
hanced understanding of John Damascene’s context to detail the
different aspects of the “Heresy of the Ishmaelites.” This work con-
cludes by demonstrating that John’s context is useful in discerning
the meaning and value of his work, and that John’s “Heresy of the
Ishmaelites” is in fact a very intelligent and qualified response to
this so-called “heresy”.
7 Robert Hoyland. “The Rise of Islam,” in The Oxford History of Byzantium, ed. Cyril
Mango, (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), 121.
8 Sahas, John of Damascus, 19.
9 G.R. Hawting, The First Dynasty of Islam: The Ummayad Caliphate (661-750) (Car-
bondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press, 1987), 23-24. See also, Kennedy,
69.
10 Sahas, John of Damascus, 18.
11 Ibid., 2.
12 Kennedy, 20.
13 Ibid., 69.
then assembled to choose the new caliph. Their choice was Uth-
man, a leader of the clan of Ummaya, though Uthman is counted
among the Rashidun caliphs because he did not attempt to establish
an Ummayad successor.14 Uthman is probably best remembered for
making the bold move of producing a single definitive version of the
Qur’an.15 It was bold, most notably because it established the caliph
as the political and religious leader, further solidifying the Arab
theocracy.16 Ironically, Uthman came under significant opposition
due to accusations of “nepotism, favouritism and the encouragement
of abuses…[and] certain reprehensible innovations which found no
justification in the Qur’an or in the practice of Muhammad.”17 The
caliph tended to concentrate power in the hands of his fellow Um-
mayads, and Hawting points out that Uthman set up Ummayads as
governors in Egypt, Kufa and Basra.18 Following his initial six
years as caliph, Uthman began to experience significant problems
around 650. Kennedy comments, “Uthman tried to deal with [the
problems he faced] intelligently but he totally underestimated the
strength of feeling and his attempts to cope with the discontent
simply made the position worse”.19 These problems reached their
climax when Uthman was assassinated in his home in 656.20
Ali, cousin and son-in-law of Muhammad, was chosen to replace
Uthman. Almost immediately, Ali had to deal with opposition, po-
litical rivalry, and whispers of his participation in Uthman’s murder,
for which he was never officially charged.21 Ali initially attempted
to reverse the nepotism of Uthman and remove Ummayad gover-
nors, but he experienced significant difficulty when he attempted to
14 Ibid., 70. See also Hawting, 26.
15 Kennedy, 70.
16 cf. Kennedy, 70-71.
17 Laura Veccia Vaglieri, “The Patriarchal and Umayyad Caliphates,” in The Cam-
bridge History of Islam: Volume 1: The Central Islamic Lands, eds. P.M. Holt, Ann K.S.
Lambton and Bernard Lewis (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1970), 67.
18 Hawting, 26.
19 Kennedy, 72-73.
20 Ibid., 73.
21 Hawting, 27.
sect that would come to be known as the Shi‘a party (that is, Party
of Ali) who maintained that Ali and his descendants possessed the
true right to leadership of the Islamic Community (umma).29 The
war is of great significance to the context of John Damascene be-
cause Ali’s defeat led to the eventual elevation of Mu’awiya to the
caliphate in 661, thereby initiating the Ummayad Caliphate.30
The Ummayad Dynasty is an historical irony when one con-
siders that the Ummayads were a Meccan tribe who led opposition
against Muhammad in 624.31 Now, however, the caliph ruled the
growing Islamic empire from Damascus in Syria, rather than
Mecca.32 Mu‘awiya was from the Sufyanid family, and the subcate-
gory of Sufyanid rule during the Ummayad Dynasty thus begins
with him.33 Initially, Mu‘awiya did well as the caliph, and Kennedy
credits him for having “the shrewdness, moderation and self-control
that the situation demanded”.34 Mu‘awiya solidified a system of
governors for each territory, and each province continued in the
traditions of the previous rulers.35 Mu‘awiya’s reign was generally
one of peace and prosperity for Christians and Arabs alike.36 His
rule is known as one of tolerance, and historians and chroniclers
portray him as a ruler who would rather use material inducements
than force; he also refused to wear a crown, lest he be identified with
the harsh tyrants of Byzantine history.37 Some historians, however,
insist that Mu‘awiya failed in this effort and they accuse him of per-
verting the caliphate and turning it into a kingship. This suspicion
29 Hawting, 31.
30 Ibid., 3.
31 Ibid., 22.
32 Vaglieri, “The Patriarichal and Umayyad Caliphates,” in Holt, Lambton, and
Lewis, 77.
33 Kennedy, 86.
34 Ibid., 83.
35 Hawting, 35. Also Vaglieri, 87. For more on religious toleration under the Um-
mayads see the second section of this chapter and the third chapter.
36 Robert Hoyland, Seeing Islam as Other Saw It: A Survey and Evaluation of Christian,
Jewish and Zoroastrian Writings on Early Islam (Princeton: The Darwin Press, 1997),
263.
37 Hawting, 42-43.
stems from his desire to appoint his progeny to take the caliphate
after his death, something that many Arabs saw to be a failure,
reminiscent of Uthman’s nepotism and an attempt to establish a he-
reditary monarchy.38 In spite of that opposition, Mu‘awiya ap-
pointed his son Yazid to take his place, who did so after Mu‘awiya’s
death in 680.39 Yazid’s reign did not last long, and after his death in
683, the Sufyanid’s failed to select a strong candidate.40 Not sur-
prisingly, tension swiftly developed over the matter and would
ultimately prove to be the catalyst for a second fitna.41 Following
Mu‘awiya’s death, Ibn al-Zubyar—a leader in Mecca—began estab-
lishing himself and he became the rallying point for all Muslims
who opposed Yazid’s claim to the caliphate.42 Yazid’s army brought
the war to Mecca, but later retreated upon hearing of Yazid’s death
in 683.43 Yazid's son, known as Mu‘awiya II, attempted to establish
himself as caliph, but died only a few weeks after his rise to power.
None of Yazid’s other sons was old enough to assume control of the
caliphate and this signalled the end of a caliphate dominated by the
Sufyanids.44 Marwan ibn Hakam was declared caliph in Damascus
in 684,45 yet Marwan’s reign was also very brief, ending with his
death in 685. During his time as caliph, Marwan was still en-
trenched in the difficulties of the second fitna, yet he showed great
resolve to re-establish Ummayad authority from Damascus which
would influence Mecca and beyond. That task was continued by his
son and successor Abd al-Malik, who became caliph in 685. Under
his command, Mecca fell to the Arabs of Damascus in 692.46 After
Marwan, all future caliphs of the Ummayad Dynasty would be his
38Ibid., 43. See also Kennedy, 88.
39 Kennedy, 89.
40 Hawting, 46.
41 Hawting, 46.
42 Kennedy, 89-90.
43 Hawting, 30.
44 Kennedy, 90.
45 Ibid., 41-42. See also Hawting, 48.
46 Hawting, 49.
own progeny and the Marwanids replaced the Sufyanids as the rul-
ing bloodline.47
Abd al-Malik is arguably the most significant caliph of the Um-
mayads by reason of the many changes that happened under his
rule. One such change was the standardization of uniquely Arab
coinage throughout the empire. The currency possessed “a stan-
dard weight and design…an inscription giving the date, the caliph’s
name and a religious slogan”.48 There were no faces on the coins,
and this seems to be a significant move toward a dogmatic icono-
clasm within Islam.49 Along with a standardized coinage, Abd al-
Malik began intentional Arabization of the empire, making Arabic
the official language of the courts.50 Finally, it was under Abd al-
Malik’s leadership that the Dome of the Rock was constructed in
Jerusalem.51 Abd al-Malik died in Damascus in 705, leaving a gen-
erally successful reign behind him. Abd al-Malik had seen the com-
pletion of the Dome of the Rock and he had established a centralized
bureaucratic empire and a strong Syrian army.52 After Abd al-
Malik’s death, his son, al-Walid, assumed leadership of the caliphate.
Walid continued the policies of his father without many notable
progressions or disruptions and, after his death in 715, leadership of
the caliphate passed between four men in nine years. Walid’s son,
Sulayaman ruled, and after his death in 718, Umar II led the cali-
phate. In 720 it went to his son, Yazid II, and after Yazid’s death in
724, Hisham managed to hold power until 743.53 Most notable for
the focus of this work is Yazid II who strengthened the Islamic
dogma of iconoclasm and Hisham, whose defeat by Charles Martel
in 732 signaled the end of the Arab conquests.54 The history of the
47 Ibid., 58.
48 Kennedy, 99.
49 Hawting, 65. Islam’s brand of iconoclasm will be examined in the fourth chapter.
50 Kennedy, 99. Hawting (Hawting, 63-64) stresses that these changes did not
occur overnight, but should be seen as a process originating with Abd al-Malik.
51 Ibid.
52 Kennedy, 102-103.
53 Hawting, xv.
54 Ibid., 83. See chapter four for a discussion of Islamic iconoclasm.
55 Hawting, 98-103.
56 Louis Berkhof, The History of Christian Doctrines (Carlisle, PN: Banner of Truth
Trust, 2002), 105, 107.
57 Ibid., 108-09.
58 Sarris, 44-45.
59 Sidney Griffith, ‘”Melkites”, “Jacobites” and the Christological Controversies in
Arabic in Third/Ninth Century Syria,’ in David Thomas, ed., Syrian Christians
Under Islam: The First Thousand Years (Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill, 2001), 12.
60 Harald Suermann, “Copts and the Islam of the Seventh Century,” in The En-
counter of Eastern Christianity with Early Islam, ed. Emmanouela Grypeou, Mark N.
Swanson and David Thomas (Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill), 96.
61 Ibid., 98.
62 J. Moorehead, “The Monophysite Response to the Arab Invasions,” Byzantion 51
(1981): 583-84.
63 S.P. Brock, “Syriac Views of Emergent Islam,” in Juynboll, 10.
64 John V. Tolan, Saracens: Islam in the Medieval European Imagination (New York:
Columbia University Press, 2002), 46.
65 Tolan (Ibid., 45) echoes Brock’s comments, declaring that Monophysites
“breathe[d] a collective sigh of relief. No longer subjected to pressure (and inter-
mittent persecution) from Constantinople, they were granted broader religious
freedoms by their new Muslim rulers.”
66 Kennedy, 5.
67 Ibid., 64-65.
68 Jean-Baptiste Chabot, ed. Chronique de Michel le Syrien, 236-37/185, cited in Jan J.
van Ginkel, “The Perception and Presentation of the Arab Conquest in Syriac His-
toriography: How did the Changing Social Position of the Syrian Orthodox Com-
munity Influence the Account of their Historiographers?” in Emmanouela, Swan-
son, and Thomas, The Encounter, 177. Also see Brock, 11.
69 Brock, 11. Also see Tolan, 43.
70 Ibid.
71 John of Jerusalem identifies himself as the translator. Whether this is the Patri-
arch who died in 969 or John VI (838-842) or John VII (964-66) of Jerusalem is
uncertain. See Sahas, John of Damascus, 32-35.
72 Sahas, John of Damascus, 36-37.
78 Ibid.
79 Ibid.
80 Ibid.
81 Ibid.
82 Vaglieri, 92.
83 Averil Cameron The Church in the Byzantine Dark Ages (London: Friends of Dr.
Williams’s Library, 1993), 8.
84 Sahas, John of Damascus, 47.
85 Kennedy, 87.
86 Sahas, John of Damascus, 42.
87 Ibid.
88 Ibid.
89 The date of 718 is also supported in David Thomas, “Christian Theologians and
New Questions,” in Grypeou, Swanson, and Thomas, 258.
92 Olster, Roman Defeat, 30.
93 Paul J. Alexander, “The Strength of the Empire and Capital as Seen Through
Byzantine Eyes,” Speculum, Vol. 37, No. 3 (July 1962): 345.
94 J. Haury and G. Werth, eds. Wars, Opera Omnia (Leipzig, 1962), II. 26.2, cited in
Olster, 32.
I have thrashed the Greeks, and you pretend to rely on your God.
Why has he not preserved from my hands Caesarea, Jerusalem and
great Alexandria? Since your hope is vain, do not deceive yourself; for
how can this Christ, who could not save himself from the hands of the
Jews and was killed by them and attached to the cross, save you from
my hands?95
The Christian community saw Chosroes as a direct threat to
Christ. Olster goes so far as to call Christ “the patron of Roman
victory”.96 Within the Church, this one idea grew at the expense of
others.97 In fact, the missionary aspect of the Church and Roman
imperial protection and expansion became one in the same. The
Persians were seen less as a religious threat, than as a military
threat, and the need to convert them was not heavily emphasized.
The invading outsiders were seen rather as a threat to the imperial
order, which had been laid down by God.98 Furthermore, the con-
duit of God’s favour rested with the emperor, who was seen as “the
Lord’s Anointed.”99 The office of the emperor was not a human in-
stitution, but an image of the divine ruler.100 Socrates, the Church
historian of the fifth century, wrote that the Emperor Theodosius II
was able to withstand the barbarian invasion because he “immedi-
ately, as his custom was, committed the management of the matter
to God; and continuing in earnest prayer, he speedily obtained what
he sought.”101 The union of Church and state meant that “Christ
was the god of victory, patron of a Christian Roman race, whose
95 Evagrius, History III, 79-80, cited in Olster, 42. Olster points out that the letter
may not be completely authentic, but there is certainty that Chosroes II wrote
something of this nature, thick with accusations that the Christian God had failed
to protect his people.
96 Olster, Roman Defeat, 32.
97 Alexander, 345.
98 Olster, Roman Defeat, 33.
99 Alexander, 346.
100 David M. Olster, “Justinian, Imperial Rhetoric and the Church,” Byzantinosla-
vica, 50 (1989): 167.
101 Socrates Scholasticus, Ecclesiastical History, 7.43, trans. A.C. Zenos, in Nicene and
Post-Nicene Fathers, Volume 2: Socrates, Sozomenus: Church Histories, eds. Philip Schaff
and Henry Wace (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2004), 176.
102 Olster, Roman Defeat, 43.
103 Ibid., 30.
104 Ibid., 35.
105 Ibid.
106 Ibid., 37.
107 Ibid.
108 Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History, VI.2, trans. Chester D. Hartranft, in Nicene and
Post-Nicene Fathers, Volume 2: Socrates, Sozomenus: Church Histories eds., Philip Schaff
and Henry Wace (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2004), 347.
other’s virtue could return God’s favour and restore the empire.”109
Heraclius enjoyed only a short period of being hailed as the saviour
of the empire. In the time to come, following the Arab invasions,
some chroniclers would find Heraclius’ incestuous marriage to his
niece to be the cause of Arab victory.110 Additionally, Maximus the
Confessor, while on trial, suggested that Heraclius’ invention of
Monothelitism—an emperor’s attempt to resolve the Chalcedonian
schism—was the reason for the success of the Arab invasions.111
The emperor’s personal theological leanings were a significant fac-
tor in the empire’s failures or successes. Alexander notes that
…it was always possible to account for setbacks on the battlefield or for
temporary victories of an unorthodox theological doctrine by consider-
ing them examples of another fainting spell or “falling asleep” soon to
be followed by the reign of another restorer who would reawaken the
state.112
During the late sixth and early seventh centuries, the hope of im-
perial restoration was very strong, and Christians anticipated that
martial victory would soon be theirs once again.
2.3 Turning inward
Certainly these questions and struggles were not new. After Rome
fell in 410, Augustine of Hippo answered the problem by unravel-
ling the ideal of the theocracy by insisting that the church and the
empire are not necessarily connected.113 Augustine defined the city
of man, or the empire, as distinct—though not entirely cut off—
from the city of God, or the church.114 Augustine saw that Christian
109 Olster, Roman Defeat, 35.
110 Ibid., 37.
111 Anastasius Apocrisarius, Relatio motionis inter meaximum et principes, PG 90.112a-
c, cited in Olster, Roman Defeat, 37.
112 Alexander, 356.
113 Walter Emil Kaegi Jr., Byzantium and the Decline of Rome (Princeton: Princeton
University Press, 1968), 147-48.
114 Marthinus Versfeld, A Guide to The City of God (New York: Sheed and Ward,
1958), 60-61, 63. More specifically, the Civitas Dei is the Church, triumphal in
heaven.
thermore, “even if the Roman Empire fell, the city of God would
not.”122 Augustine understood that no city of man is eternal, and
no earthly empire is impervious to defeat. Rome was not the first
great city to fall, and it certainly would not be the last.123 This per-
spective eventually began to dominate because the fifth century
proved to be only the beginning of Roman defeat. As the Persian
Wars drew to a close and the Arabs would soon be invading, there
began to be a shift in the method for explaining the failures of the
“Christian empire.” This shift did not completely dissolve previous
methods, but it was necessitated by the reality that such clichés of
historical interpretation were no longer satisfying explanations for
the events at hand.124 In contrast to the triumphalism that had been
in vogue for about three centuries, the early seventh century saw
the beginning of disenchantment with the Roman Empire. The re-
sult was a kind of emptiness—a lack of an answer to the question of
why this was happening. The absence of that answer was still a
problem that needed to be addressed in the Christian congregations.
Olster puts it well when he points out, “Christians did not reject
triumphalism because it was insufficiently Christian, nor because of
a long-standing dialectic of Greco-Roman and Christian ideologies.
Defeat’s bitter reality made triumphalism ludicrously out-of-step
with experience, opening a gap between rhetoric and reality that
Christians sough to close…”125
The most significant answers to these questions came from
Sophronius, Patriarch of Jerusalem (560-638). Sophronius’ work
both as a writer and a leader in the Church is extremely helpful in
giving a picture of how Christians perceived their losses to the Per-
sians. Sophronius’ work exemplifies the growing divisions within
the empire due in part to the conflicts between Church and state, as
122 Ibid., 8.
123 Ibid., 73-74.
124 Olster, Roman Defeat, 51.
125 Ibid., 44. Alexander (Alexander, 356) places the “first expression of dissatisfac-
tion with the prevailing self-image” in 1071, when the Byzantines are defeated by
the Seljuq Turks at Manzikiert. However, Sophronius’ work clearly demonstrates
a dissatisfaction long before 1071, as will be demonstrated below.
the day. “Indeed, it spurred them to greater efforts, for it was pre-
cisely because of these false beliefs and schisms that the Christian
community was thus afflicted, as is asserted by almost every writer
on the subject in this period.”134 Olster summarizes that “[b]odily
impurity and heresy caused the punishments that God heaped on
the Jerusalemites, not political sins.”135
Sophronius focused most intently on heresy in his Feast of Purifi-
cation Oration. As was typical with Sophronius, the central vehicle
of unity was the liturgy of the Church and the problem facing the
Church was heresy.136 In the sermon, Sophronius condemned Eu-
tyches and Nestorius, identifying them not only as separate from
the people of God, but also as individuals who seriously threaten the
orthodox congregation’s unity with Christ. He therefore called his
congregation to purity and contrasted them with the heretics, who
threatened purity. It is helpful to know that Sophronius was not
focusing on purity in the sense of sinlesness. Rather, his chief con-
cern was doctrinal and liturgical purity. Additionally, his Christmas
Oration showed a different side. Written more than a year before
the 636 Battle of Yarmuk, Sophronius was preaching to a depressed
congregation. The Arab forces were moving in and Bethlehem had
been taken, preventing these congregants from participating in
their annual Christmas pilgrimage. Sophronius’ encouragement to
them cantered on internal purification from sin. He wrote:
Whence we perform a celebration in distress…I accordingly call,
preach and beseech your great longing for Christ himself, that we
might amend ourselves, howevermuch [sic] we can, and shine with re-
pentance and be pure in our conversion…For this, if we might live a
life that is beloved and friendly to God, we would rejoice at the fall of
our scourge, the Saracens, and we would shortly observe their destruc-
tion, and see their utter devastation. For their bloodthirsty sword
would be plunged into their hearts, their bow shivered, and their ar-
rows struck in them.137
134 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 68.
135 Olster, Roman Defeat, 104.
136 Ibid., 105.
137 Sophronius, Christmas Orations, 514.29-515.9, cited in Olster, Roman Defeat, 107.
A more imperialistic tone was taken here, which reflects the re-
ality that Sophronius did hope for the removal of the Arabs, but the
hope of imperial restoration is not found in his work. That is what
set Sophronius apart from his contemporaries. He shifted the hope
of his people to unity with Christ through the liturgy and purifica-
tion from sin, not through the hope of political and martial domi-
nance. His chief concern was not whether it was Christians in
power or Arabs in power, but rather whether the Church could en-
vision being freed from heresy and false doctrine.
Jacob of Edessa provides another example of this shift in think-
ing. Jacob was appointed bishop in Edessa in 684. Once elevated to
the rank of bishop, Jacob strictly adhered to Church rulings and
regulations. He enforced these with zeal, bringing him into conflict
with his fellow bishops, especially Julian the Patriarch. The pres-
sure from these parties forced him to resign after four years, where-
upon he took up residence at the monastery of Mar Jacob at Kay-
shum. Once there, he began to speak out against “certain people
who transgress the Law of God and trample on the canons of the
church”.138 Jacob had a strong concern for discipline within the
Church. Hoyland points out that a large portion of Jacob’s work
deals with “purity, both in liturgical and social practice”.139 Specifi-
cally, Jacob was concerned with the purity of the Church in the
sense of removing heresy or external pagan corruption. Hoyland’s
explanation here is helpful: “In the social sphere this meant caution
in one’s dealings with heretics and unbelievers. Thus, one should
not make altar coverings, priests’ garments or drapes from cloth on
which is embroidered the Muslim profession of faith.”140 Further-
more, Jacob insisted that Church doors should be locked during ser-
vices, lest “Muslims enter and mingle with the believers and disturb
138 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 160. This is the title of a tract by Jacob.
139 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 161.
140 Ibid.
them and laugh at the holy Mysteries”.141 Hoyland points out that
Jacob’s advice always centers on purity and separation.142
The seventh-century decline of triumphalism was the result of
disenchantment with the past explanations for Roman defeat.
Sophronius’ work marked the start of a radical shift in thinking for
the Church. This movement toward a focus on spiritual purity pro-
duced a motivation to meet the enemies of Christianity on the intel-
lectual battlefield, rather than the physical one.
2.4 For such a time as this:
Apologies and disputations
The decline of triumphalism led to the advent of a new context for
interpreting defeat. Essentially, the Christian community began to
focus on the purity of the faith and this led to a growth of apologetic
material. The Muslims in power had undermined the doctrine of
triumphalism, and as time went on, the faith of the Arabs became a
more serious challenge to the Christian Church. The battles were
now over issues of philosophy, theology and truth rather than over
military victory and kingdom acquisition. Yet, into the late seventh
century, there remained a remarkable absence of apologies, disputa-
tions, and dialogues between Christians and Muslims concerning
the differences of their respective faiths. This has a great deal to do
with the fact that the Christian community first perceived the Arabs
to be a military force rather than a threat to the faith itself. Hoy-
land, while discussing the work of Theodotus of Amida (d. 698),
comments, “The Muslims tend to be no more than a hostile back-
ground presence”.143 People fled the Arab invaders to avoid hard-
ship. However, it was not until the eight century that the Arabs
were universally perceived by the Christian community to be com-
petition for religious truth, a perception that will be discussed below
in chapter three. This growth in apologetics and polemics, because
of competing religious truth claims, is significant because John
141 Jacob of Edessa, Replies to John, B9, cited in Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 162.
142 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 162.
143 Ibid., 159.
the years 691-705, and so puts our text into the first decades of the
eight century.”149 Reinink’s placement of the text confirms the
aforementioned idea that apologetic literature against Islam began
to take significant strides in the context of the Christian com-
munity’s new resolve against heresy and opposing faiths.
The second example of Christian and Muslim dialogue from the
early eighth century is that between A Monk of Beth Hale and an
Arab Notable. The text contains some notes of introduction, describ-
ing the Arab as “one of the chief men before the emir… Maslama
and by reason of a malady which he had, he came to us and re-
mained with us for ten days. He spoke freely with us and debated
much about our scriptures and their Qur’an.”150 After terms for the
debate are set, a series of questions are presented by the Arab, and
the monk gives concise responses. Particularly interesting for this
discussion is Maslama’s use of Islamic triumphalism. His first ques-
tion to the monk was, “Is not our faith better than any faith that is
on the heart… for we observe the commandments of Muhammad
and the sacrifices of Abraham…And this is a sign that God loves us
and is pleased with our faith, namely, that he gives us dominion
over all religions and all peoples.”151 The monk’s response is in-
valuable for this discussion because he rejected the validity of tri-
umphalism when he replied, “There are and have been many other
rulers in the world besides the Arabs.”152 The Arab proceeded to
ask questions concerning the New Covenant, the Trinity, the iden-
tity of Muhammad, the worship of the cross, and the direction to
face during prayer.153 The conclusion of the dialogue is quite spec-
tacular; the Arab-Muslim is won over and admits the truth of Chris-
tianity, yet interestingly enough he still struggles with his own be-
lief in triumphalism. He confesses, “Though I know that your faith
is true, and that your way of thinking is superior to ours, what is the
149 Reinink, “Beginnings of Syriac Apologetic Literature,” cited in Hoyland, Seeing
Islam, 465.
150 Monk of Beth Hale, Disputation, fol. 1a-b cited in Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 466.
151 Ibid., fols. 1b-2a, cited in Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 467.
152 Ibid. This is consistent with Augustine’s perspective mentioned above.
153 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 467-68.
reason that God has delivered you into our hands, and that you are
led by us like sheep to the slaughter, and that your bishops and
priests are killed and the rest crushed and enslaved night and day by
the king’s taxes, which are harsher than death.”154 The monk re-
sponds by quoting Deuteronomy 9:5, “Not because of your right-
eousness has God brought you into the land of Promise, but because
of the wickedness of the inhabitants.” Additionally, the monk cites
the New Testament teaching that chastisement is the act of God,
which he bestows upon those he loves, to discipline them as chil-
dren.155 This response is stunning when it is considered that only a
century earlier Christians had used the rhetoric of triumphalism to
defend their own faith. Now, the Christian community had pre-
pared an apologetic completely absent of sixth-century trium-
phalism, even with a goal to respond to an Islamic brand of trium-
phalism. Hoyland observes that the work itself is probably a fabri-
cation when one considers the Arab’s speedy conversion.156 Yet the
work is still useful because, like the previous dialogue discussed
above, this work demonstrates a familiarity with Islam and a consis-
tency with the movement to defend the purity of the faith. Hoyland
suggests that the work comes after 717, placing it in the earlier part
of the Ummayad Dynasty.
This trend towards a focus on internal purity is why John Dama-
scene wrote his great work, The Fount of Knowledge. The first and
second sections of the work, which focus on philosophy and heresy
respectively, are written so that the reader will be competent to de-
fine the heresies of the day and embrace and articulate the orthodox
faith. John’s concern, as will be shown below in the fourth chapter,
is not the restoration of a Christian empire but rather the purity of
the Church, the removal of heresy, and the Christian community’s
need for a thorough exposition of the faith. These developments in
the thinking of the Church ultimately proved to do her a great ser-
vice by permitting Christianity to persevere in times of difficulty.
154 Monk of Beth Hale, Disputation, fol. 8a, cited in Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 468.
155 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 469.
156 Ibid.
157 Daniel J. Sahas, “The Face to Face Encounter Between Patriarch Sophronius of
Jerusalem and the Caliph ‘Umar Ibn Al-Khattab: Friends or Foes?” in Grypeou,
Swanson, and Thomas, 33.
that any pagan might be guilty of, and there has been no attack on
Islam specifically. The mid sixth-century Byzantines had lived
under Sassanid rule in the century before, so the invasion of a for-
eign people was not entirely novel to their experience.
In an effort to preserve Christian influence during this time, it
was not uncommon for some writers to count the Arab invasion as a
sign of apocalypse and the end of the world. The book of Daniel
was often interpreted in the context of seventh century events.
Muslims were thought to be the “precursors of antichrist”.167 One
anonymous commentator wrote, “We see that the fourth beast,
namely Rome, is brought low and ravaged by nations, and hence-
forth one must expect the ten horns…after the humbling of the
fourth beast, that is Rome, nothing else is expected, except the con-
fusion of the nations, the ten horns and the coming of the blasphe-
mous and deceiving devil.”168 The Arabs are identified here as “the
eleventh, little horn,” a very significant role in the drama of the end
times.169 There was a surge in apocalyptic literature in the latter
parts of the seventh century (680s and 690s) and this might at first
seem to be an oddity. However, the second fitna (683-92) brought
turmoil into the empire, which took apocalyptic fervour to a high
point. During this time, a Syriac apocalypse was composed, which
is attributed to Methodius, Bishop of Olympus (d. 312).170 The
Pseudo-Methodius Apocalypse predicts that, “…the kingdom of the
Persians will be uprooted, and…the sons of Ishmael will come out
from the desert of Yathrib.” The text goes on to speak of the hor-
rors committed by these invaders: “captivity and slaughter”, “exact-
ing tribute even from the dead who lie in the ground;” “they will not
pity the sick nor have compassion for the weak.”171 The work com-
pares these “sons of Ishmael” to the Midianite Kings in Judges 7-
167 Tolan, 45.
168 V. Deroche, ed. and trans., “Juifs et chretiens,” 183; V.5, 193, cited in Hoyland,
Seeing Islam, 533.
169 Tolan, 45.
170 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 264. Hoyland points out that the likely date of compo-
sition is 690, by a Melkite or Monophysite author.
171 Ps-Methodius, Apocalypse, XIII.2, XIII.4, cited in Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 264.
8.172 Reinink explains, “The explanation [is] that the Arabs, like
the Midianites in the time of Gideon, are used by God as a tempo-
rary scourge wherewith to punish His children for their sins,”173 yet
again demonstrating the Byzantine motif of divine judgment of sin
as an explanation for the fall of the empire.
In spite of the use of religious and apocalyptic language to de-
scribe the Arab Invasion, the Christian community did not yet per-
ceive their new rulers as challengers of Christianity. Indeed, this
was likely due in part to the reality that the conquests, from the
Arab perspective, were less about conversion and more about estab-
lishing an empire for the fame of Allah. Sahas comments, “The
Muslims were, primarily, concerned with establishing themselves
successfully as rulers in these new territories with a Christian ma-
jority.”174 In fact, Dionysius’ military account of the conquest con-
tains very few references to religion, one of them found here when
he writes that Arab troops were given the order to
…kill neither the aged, nor the little child, nor the woman. Wherever
you are welcomed by a city or people, make a solemn pact with them
and give them reliable guarantees that they will be ruled according to
their laws and according to the practices which obtained among them
before our time. They will contract with you to [pay tribute], then
they will be left alone in their confession and in their country. But as
for those who do not welcome you, make war on them. Be careful to
abide by all the just laws and commandments which have been given to
you by God through our prophet, lest you excite the wrath of God.175
The invasions themselves, though bloody and barbaric, were not
about conversion by the sword but were rather about establishing a
uniquely Arab Kingdom that was unified by the Muslim faith, a faith
172 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 266.
173 Gerrit J. Reinink, “Political Power and Right Religion in the East Syrian Dispu-
tation Between a Monk of Bet Hale and an Arab Notable,” in Grypeou, Swanson,
and Thomas, 166.
174 Sahas, John of Damascus, 25.
175 Jean-Baptiste Chabot, ed. Chronique de Michel le Syrien, 235/184, cited in van
Ginkel, “The Perception and Presentation,” in Grypeou, Swanson, and Thomas,
178.
187 Ibid., 79.
188 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 347.
189 H. Delehaye, ed., “Passio sexaginta martyrum,” 301, cited in Hoyland, Seeing
Islam, 348.
190 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 349.
191 Ibid., 350.
leave alone, rather we kill him.” Umar I, when speaking of the tribe
of Taghlib allegedly said, “They are a people of the Arabs and not
from the people of the Book, so they must become Muslim.”197
Mu‘adh and Sham Allah were two chiefs in the Taghlib tribe who
were threatened to convert to Islam. Mu‘adh was later executed for
his refusal to apostatize. Sham Allah was left alive but was told by
Walid, “While you are a chief of the Arabs, you shame them all by
worshiping a cross.”198 Another pertinent account is the story of a
tribesman of Iyad who was captured during a raid of Maslama ibn
Abd al-Malik. He was beheaded by Hisham at Harran for refusing
to adopt Islam.199 These accounts are somewhat rare because Arabs
tended to convert to Islam under persecution, and these conversions
tended to be mass conversions of the entire tribe. The threat of tor-
ture resulted in Arab conversions being the rule, and steadfastness
the exception.200 The common thread in these accounts, however,
seems to be the desire to avoid torture and death rather than any
significant measure of love for the Muslim faith. One account pro-
vides helpful insight into the rationale for conversion; it records the
conversion of the Arabs of Sinai.
When, in accordance with the just judgment of God, the nation of the
Saracens came out of their native land to the holy mountain of Sinai to
occupy this place and to dislodge from the Christian faith the Saracens
who were found there and who were formerly Christians, these latter,
who had their abode and tents near the fort and the holy bush, heard of
this and went up with their families to a secure spot up on the holy
summit, from there to combat, as from a height, the approaching Sara-
cens. They did thus, but being powerless to resist much the oncoming
197 Abū Yūsuf, Kitāb al-kharāj (Cairo, 1933), 121, cited in Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 352
198 Jean-Baptiste Chabot, ed. Chronique de Michel le Syrien 11.XVII, 451-52/480-82,
cited in Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 352. Hoyland also points out that one account re-
cords Sham Allah undergoing brutal torture before the Arabs relented.
199 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 352-53.
200 Ibid., 353.
host, they surrendered and went to live with them and to believe with
them.201
The Arabs of Sinai were converting because they failed to sustain
a competitive military force. The alternative was failure and death,
perhaps demonstrating why triumphalism led to Christian apostasy.
One of the Christian Arabs of Sinai refused to convert. He fled and
eventually died from illness in the monastery of Sinai. Hoyland
mentions that the dating of the story is difficult but places this
Christian Arab’s death “around the year 660”, after the 640 invasion
of Egypt.202 A final account of interest is that of Peter of Capitolias
who was martyred for speaking ill of the Prophet Muhammad. He
is mentioned by John Damascene and will therefore be discussed in
greater depth below.203
These accounts provide evidence that the spread of Islam was
indeed a motivation for the Arab conquests, though this effort was
limited to those of Arab descent. There seems to be little or no ef-
fort during the Arab conquest to convert the Greek Christians.
3.3 Life under Arab rule
There has been some question as to whether those Christians in po-
sitions of power and authority were actually apostates and received
their position by means of denying their faith.204 Hoyland points out
that martyrologies consistently presented the scene of the hero or
heroes being tempted with the offers of wealth and power if they
would convert to Islam.205 However, this idea would seem to be an
exaggeration. Theophanes indicates that, in 758, the Arabs at-
tempted to “expel the Christians from government chanceries, but
201 K.H. Uthermann, ed. Viae dux (CCSG 8: Turnhout and Leuven, 1981), C4, cited
in Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 353.
202 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 354.
203 Ibid., 358.
204 Hoyland (Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 338) presents this as a common argument
within non-Muslim communities to avert their peers from converting to Islam.
Specifically, Hoyland refers to the account of a Zoroastrian priest who converted
because of his desire for worldly pleasures.
205 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 339.
were once again obliged to entrust the same duties to them because
they were unable to write numbers”.206 Even in the late tenth cen-
tury—long after the Ummayad Dynasty—Muqaddasi, an Arab his-
torian, records that most of the physicians and scribes in Egypt and
Syria were Christians.207 This would indicate that Christians held
positions of authority and power during the first two (and perhaps
three) centuries of Islam.208 Sahas notes that Christians found their
way into the court of the caliph “as administrative advisors…as ad-
mirals in the newly built Muslim fleet, as poets, instructors of the
princes and artists”.209 One Syrian chronicler indicates, “Christians
were still the scribes, leaders and governors of the land of the Ar-
abs”.210 John Damascene is thus an example of a common reality.
John Damascene’s position in the caliph’s court was not at all an
oddity in eighth-century Byzantium. Ibn Mansur was on good
terms with the caliph,211 and Kennedy points out, “In Syria, financial
administration was almost entirely in the hands of local Christians,
including Sarjun, [John Damascene] son of Mansur”.212 In fact, he
is not the only Christian to have such a notable position. Zacharias,
Bishop of Sakha, was a secretary in the Muslim administration and a
contemporary of John Damascene. Like John, Zacharias received
the position because of his family’s position in the court.213 Interest-
ingly, he also left his position later to become a monk.214 Simeon of
the Olives is another example of the peaceful relations between the
Christian community and their Arab rulers. Simeon built a Church
206 Carl de Boor, ed. Theophanis chronographia, vol.1, 430-31, cited in Hoyland, See-
ing Islam, 339.
207 M.J. de Goeje, ed, Ahsan al-taqāsīm (Leiden, 1877), 183, cited in Hoyland, Seeing
Islam, 339.
208 Hoyland (Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 339) goes a step further and writes,
“…administrative and medical professions were dominated by non-Muslims.”
209 Sahas, John of Damascus, 25.
210 Dionysius of Tellmahre as preserved in Michael the Syrian 11.XVI, 449/474,
and the Chronicle of 1234, 1.294, cited in Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 158.
211 Sahas, John of Damascus, 29-30.
212 Kennedy, 87.
213 Coptic Synaxary, “21 Amshīr,” cited in Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 167.
214 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 168.
at Nisibis with the permission of “the great king of the Arabs” dem-
onstrating that the Arabs in power during the early stages of Um-
mayad rule had no agenda to handicap Christian worship.215 All of
this demonstrates that the relations between Christians and Arabs
in the early centuries of the transition of power were generally
peaceful, with instances of martyrdom and tension being the excep-
tion rather than the rule. In general, the Arabs were quite lenient
with their Christian subjects. As a rule, the Christian community
enjoyed a great deal of autonomy and functioned without fear of
interference or persecution.216 Vaglieri suggests that this might
have been because they were “a force which was not to be under-
rated”.217 The size and potential strength of the Christian com-
munity was likely a factor in their autonomy, but it would be over-
simplification to call the freedoms extended by the caliphate nothing
more than preventative measures. Mu‘awiya seemed genuinely in-
terested in extending peace to his subjects, as evidenced in his
statement above about refraining from the using the sword.
Jon bar Penkaye, a resident of the monastery of John Kamul,
penned his Ktaba d-rish melle (Book of Salient Points) in 687.218 It is
a chronicle of the world from creation to his own day. Maintaining
consistency with those before him, he writes that the Arabs are the
chastisement of God, yet he points out that the first civil war is an
indication of God’s judgment on the Arabs.219 The most important
aspect of John’s work is that he is “noticeably unhostile towards
Arab rule”.220 John’s chronicle reveals that once the Arabs were in
power, standard policy was actually quite lenient toward the Chris-
tian faith. John says of the Arab invaders, “Before calling them,
(God) had prepared them beforehand to hold Christians in honour;
thus they also had a special commandment from God concerning
215 Philoxenus Y. Dolabani, ed., Maktabzbne d-umra qaddisha d-Qartmin (Mardin,
1959), 125, cited in Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 168.
216 Vaglieri, 88.
217 Ibid.
218 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 194-95.
219 Ibid.
220 Ibid.
221 Alphonse Mingana ed., Ktaba d-rish melle, 141, cited in Hoyland, Seeing Islam,
196.
222 Ibid.
223 Ibid., 146/175, cited in Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 196.
224 Ibid.
225 Kennedy, 67.
226 Sahas, “The Face to Face Encounter,” 38.
227 Ibid., 40.
228 Hawting, 81.
229 Van Ginkel, 175.
230 G.J. Reinink, “Early Christian reactions to the building of the Dome of the Rock
in Jerusalem,” Xristianskij Vostok 2 (8). (St. Petersburg/Moscow: 2001), 227-28.
231 Oleg Grabar, “Islamic Art and Byzantium,” in Dumbarton Oaks Center for By-
zantine Studies, Dumbarton Oaks Papers: Number Eighteen (Washington, DC: The
Dumbarton Oaks Center for Byzantine Stuides, 1964), 80. Also Kennedy, 99.
232 Ibid., 241.
233 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 457.
“On Heresies” (De Haeresibus) within the larger work, The Fount of
Knowledge.
John’s great work, The Fount of Knowledge, relies heavily on the
great Christian thinkers and writers of the past, and he is explicit
about not producing something new, but rather his aim is sum-
marizing the orthodox faith. He writes in his preface, “I shall add
nothing of my own, but shall gather together into one those things
which have been worked out by the most eminent of teachers and
make a compendium of them…”239 John Damascene’s goal is to
bring together the great thinkers of Christianity; hence Sahas calls
him the first classical systematic theologian.240 By 727, John Dama-
scene was well established in his career as a monk and Griffith
points out that his work ‘did as much as any other to define the
frame of mind of the “Byzantine conformists” [that is, Chalcedonian
Orthodoxy] in the caliphate.’241 Thomas’ comments are also illumi-
nating. He writes, “John composed The Fount of Knowledge on the
basis of considerable experience at the centre of Islamic rule, and in
a religious milieu in which Islam was increasingly influential.”242
The Fount of Knowledge is composed of three chapters. The first
is an introduction of Philosophical Categories (Dialectica), followed
by an exposition of heresies contemporary to John’s day (De Haere-
sibus), and finally a third chapter divided up into four sections ex-
plaining the particulars of Christian orthodoxy (De Orthodoxa Fide).
The first chapter is likely a product of John Damascene’s Greek
education under his tutor, Cosmas. Louth suggests that John’s
study of the enkyklios paideia—the modern equivalent of a
curriculum in Greek education—is the reason for the Dialectica.
Louth argues that John’s knowledge of the enkyklios paideia would
have motivated him to define particular philosophical categories so
that they might serve as the foundation for apologetic common
239 John Damascene, The Fount of Knowledge, 6. All English translations of this
work are from Frederic Chase, Saint John of Damascus: Writings (New York: The
Fathers of the Church, 1958).
240 Sahas, John of Damascus, 52-53.
241 Sidney Griffith, “Christological Controversies,” in Thomas, Syrian Christians, 15.
242 Thomas, “Christian Theologians,” in Grypeou, Swanson, and Thomas, 258.
ground.243 Sahas also points out that John’s view toward philoso-
phy was that it should be a servant to theology and, indeed, the Dia-
lectica can be seen as a demonstration of that conviction.244 Follow-
ing the Dialectica is the De Haeresibus, which is the focus of this
study because it includes John Damascene’s explanation of Islam
(the “Ishmaelites”). The De Haeresibus is an explanation of over one
hundred different heresies, mostly focusing on their origins, their
errors and their influence on Christendom at the time of John’s
writing. The Fount of Knowledge was a summation of all the Chris-
tian should know, and that is why it included this chapter on her-
esies.245 The De Haeresibus is a demonstration of John’s commit-
ment to lay down the Orthodox Faith as he understood it, rather
than to create new material. With the exception of the chapter on
the Ishmaelites, the work is a near verbatim copy of a text on her-
esies by Epiphanius.246 Finally, the De Orthodoxa Fide is a lengthy
exposition of the Christian faith, which is the greater purpose of The
Fount of Knowledge. John Damascene articulates numerous aspects
of Christian belief, defining and defending the dogmas of the
Church. The value of the “Heresy of the Ishmaelites” cannot be
overstated. It constitutes “the earliest explicit discussions of Islam
by a Christian theologian”.247 Furthermore, John’s substantial use
of the Qur’an makes his work “the earliest recorded Christian read-
ing of the Qur’an”.248
243 Andrew Louth, St. John Damascene: Tradition and Originality in Byzantine Theol-
ogy (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), 6.
244 Sahas, John of Damascus, 51-52.
245 Cameron, 18.
246 Sahas, John of Damascus, 56. There is some debate as to whether “The Heresy of
the Ishmaelites” was part of the original De Haeresibus. Janosik (Daniel Janosik,
“John of Damascus: First Apologist to Muslims” (paper presented at the Evangeli-
cal Theology Society Conference, Providence, RI, November 20, 2008)) notes that
the scholarly consensus is that John is the author and Sahas (Sahas, John of Damas-
cus, 57-58) demonstrates that it is indeed consistent with the rest of the work.
247 Louth, 77.
248 Mark Ivor Beaumont, “Early Christian Interpretation of the Qur’an,” Transfor-
mation 22, no.4 (October 2005): 195.
249 John Damascene, from Chase, 153.
250 Sahas, John of Damascus, 68.
251 Ibid.
252 Ibid.
253 Griffith, 9.
254 Ibid.
255 Tolan, 51.
his perspective and that the initial perception of Islam by the Chris-
tian community was that it was “another Judeo-Christian heresy
with strong Arian or Monophysite elements in it”.256
The second element in the title that raises questions is the label
of “Ishmaelites”. Certainly Muslims are not well known by such a
name today, and it raises the questions as to whether this reflects a
pejorative label on the part of the monk. The chapter regarding the
Ishmaelites actually uses three terms for a Muslim: Ishmaelite, Ha-
garene and Saracen. Sahas notes that all three of these names in-
volve the heritage of the Islamic faith.257 Hagarenes from Hagar,
mother of Ishmael, is perhaps a term from Christian authors, based
on biblical genealogies.258 Sahas adds that the label “is widely used
by the later Byzantine authors”.259 Saracen refers to Genesis 16:8
where Sarah sends Hagar away empty-handed.260 Sahas suggests
that John seems to be aware that the name is fairly arbitrary and
clarifies that the name is not of his own invention.261 However, the
term “Ishmaelite” is, according to both Christian and Islamic sour-
ces, the name that the Muslims gave to themselves. Brock shows
that though there may have been pejorative terms used for the
Islamic faith at this time, the designation “sons of Ishmael” is com-
mon and seems to be a neutral label.262 Furthermore, the under-
standing that “the Arab people…descended ultimately from the bib-
lical Ishmael” is completely consistent with Muslim tradition.263
The term “Ishmaelite” therefore does not indicate that John Dama-
scene was uninformed concerning the correct designation of Islam.
Given his context, the opposite is found to be true.
256 Sahas, John of Damascus, 26. Anastasius, for example, calls the Muslims Mono-
physite heretics (Tolan, 43).
257 Ibid., 70.
258 Tolan, 52.
259Sahas, John of Damascus, 70.
260 Ibid., 71.
261 Ibid.
262 Brock, 15.
263 Hawting, 21.
264 John Damascene, 153.
265 Sahas, John of Damascus, 73. Beaumont (Beaumont, 196) asserts that the account
is speculative and that it has no foundation in Islamic sources. However, Beau-
mont’s assertion is discredited by Ibn Ishaq’s (Ibn Ishaq, The Life of Muhammad,
trans. A. Guillaume (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), 70-80) reference to
Bahira as a Nestorian monk. John—an earlier source than Ishaq—calls Bahira an
Arian. Arian influence on Islam would be more believable than Nestorian influ-
ence, and John’s perspective here is helpful in interpreting early Islam.
266 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 478.
267 Ibid.
the story in such detail, but rather simply uses it to “identify the
source and explain Muhammad’s theology”.268 Interestingly, an-
other version of the story surnames the monk Nestorius and indi-
cates that he taught Muhammad Nestorian theology.269 Also, the
monk of Beth Hale mentions that Muhammad learned monotheism
“from Sargis Bahira”. The account of Bahira is significant because it
connects Islam with a heretical form of Christianity. John’s mention
of the monk is then completely consistent with the apologetic
thought of his time. Sahas also notes that if John’s primary know-
ledge of the story came from hadith literature, it further demon-
strates his thorough knowledge of the Ishmaelite faith.270 Further-
more, John’s emphasis on the monk’s Arianism gives further evi-
dence that John Damascene spoke of the heresy of Islam in the same
context as he would the heresy of Arianism. John sees the story of
Bahira as a kind of indictment, associating the Ishmaelite beliefs in
it with the familiar heresies of his day.271
John then transitions to discuss the nature of Islam’s mono-
theism. As already mentioned, Christendom was very familiar with
the reality that Islam was a monotheistic faith, though Christians by
this time generally understood that their Arab rulers denied the de-
ity of Christ and, therefore, the Trinity.272 Yet John Damascene
acknowledges that Muhammad did bring the Arabs out of their
former paganism and polytheism into a doctrine of monotheism,
once again demonstrating his familiarity with the Qur’an.273 After
this, John Damascene proceeds to more specifically articulate Mu-
hammad’s monotheism. He writes, “He says that there is one God,
creator of all things who has neither been begotten nor has begot-
ten”.274 Sahas first points out that this is a quotation from surah 112:
268 Sahas, John of Damascus, 73.
269 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 479.
270 Sahas, John of Damascus, 74.
271 Tolan, 52.
272 Brock, 12-13.
273 Sahas, John of Damascus, 71.
274 John Damascene, 153.
crucified this. But the Christ himself was not crucified, he says, nor did
He die, for God out of His love for Him took Him to Himself into
heaven. And he says this, that when the Christ had ascended into
heaven, he asked him: “O Jesus, didst thou say: ‘I am the Son of God
and God?’” And Jesus, he says, answered: “Be merciful to me, Lord.
Thou knowest that I did not say this and that I did not scorn to be thy
servant. But sinful men have written that I made this statement, and
they have lied about me and have fallen into error.” And God answered
and said to Him: “I know that thou dist not say this word.”282
Sahas puts it well: “This passage is one of the most convincing
evidences of the accuracy of John of Damascus’ knowledge of the
teaching and wording of the Qur’ n!”283 Swanson notes that by
John’s time, the Christian community would have at least been
aware of this Islamic doctrine, pointing out that they denied the fact
of the crucifixion, “to say nothing of its meaning and redemptive
significance.”284 There were even extravagant hagiographical ac-
counts of Muslims suffering supernaturally inflicted pains and hu-
miliations as judgment for mocking the cross.285 Lacking in John
Damascene’s explanation of the Ishmaelite’s denial of the crucifixion
is a substantive response to said denial. He follows up his detail of
the denial stating that, “There are many other extraordinary and
quite ridiculous things in this book which he boasts were sent down
to him [Muhammad] from God”.286 This response of throwing out
the Muslim’s argument with incredulity is seen both throughout
this work and the Disputatio Saraceni et Christiani, a separate work
that claims John Damascene as author and details a hypothetical
discussion between a Christian and a Muslim.287 John later, how-
ever, moves deeper into another central issue of Christian Christol-
ogy against Islamic Monotheism: the Trinity. He writes,
282 John Damascene, 153-54.
283 Sahas, John of Damascus, 79.
284 Mark N. Swanson. “Folly to the hunaf ’: The Crucifixion in Early Christian-
Muslim Controversy,” from Grypeou, Swanson, and Thomas, 238-39
285 Ibid., 240-43.
286 John Damascene, 154.
287 See Sahas, John of Damascus, 142-155.
293 Beaumont, 199.
294 S.H. Griffith “The Qur’an in Arab Christian Texts; The Development of an
Apologetical Argument: Abu Qurrah in the Maglis of Al-Ma’mun” Parole de
L’Orient 24 (1999): 216, cited in Beaumont, 199.
295 John Damascene, 156-57.
296 Barbara Roggema. “Muslims as Crypto-Idolaters—A Theme in the Christian
Portrayal of Islam in the Near East,” in Christians at the Heart of Islamic Rule: Church
Life and Scholarship In Abbasid Iraq, ed. David Thomas (Leiden, The Netherlands:
Brill, 2003), 3.
297 Ibid., 3-4.
298 A. Jeffery, “Ghevond’s Text of the Correspondence between ‘Umar II and Leo
III”, Harvard Theological Review 37, (1944) 269-332; 323, cited in Roggema, “Mus-
lims as Crypto-Idolaters,” in Thomas, Christians at the Heart, 4.
299 Mansi, XIII, 109 B-E, cited in A.A. Vasiliev, “The Iconoclastic Edict,” Dumbar-
ton Oaks Research, 26. See also J. Meyendorff, "Byzantine Views of Islam," in
Dumbarton Oaks Papers, Number Eighteen, Dumbarton Oaks Center for Byzantine
Studies (Cambridge: Harvard University Press 1964), 119. Vasiliev (Vasiliev, 27)
points out that Germanus was a supporter of icons and was probably condemning
the Arabs as the true idolaters, contrasted to the Christian supporters of icons.
300 Sahas, John of Damascus, 84.
301 Ibid., 85.
302 Vasiliev, 25. Vasiliev points out some difficulties in dating the edict, observing
that some place it in 722 and others in 723. Vasiliev mentions various sources, but
points out that the edict was read at the Second Council of Nicaea in 787, and John
of Jerusalem, who lived in the same century and territory where the edict was is-
sued, dates it at 721. Vasiliev (Vasiliev, 47) argues that this makes John of Jerusa-
lem’s dating the most accurate, with which this author agrees.
303 Ibid., 25.
304 Ibid.
305 Sahas, John of Damascus, 26.
306 B. Evetts, “History of the Patriarchs of the Coptic Church of Alexandria,” cited
in Vasiliev, 41.
307 Mansi, XIII, 200, cited in Vasiliev, 30.
308 Sahas, John of Damascus, 86.
309 Ibid., 86.
310 Ibid., 87.
Aphrodite. For they call God Alla and oua they use for the conjunc-
tion and… they call the star Koubar. And so they say Alla oua Kou-
bar.311
Meyendorff clarifies that this is also a reference to Allahu akbar,
an Arabic phrase that translates “God is very great.”312 The phrase
was—and is today—used as a part of the call to prayer,313 and it
seems to have “puzzled the Byzantine authors from the eighth cen-
tury onwards”.314 Meyendorff explains the reason for the confusion.
He writes, “That some cult of the Morning Star existed among the
Arabs before the rise of Islam seems certain, and this was known to
the Byzantines, who attempted, of course, to find traces of paganism
in Islam itself”.315 Meyendorff ends his discussion by lamenting that
John added nothing to this discussion and that he simply used a
common argument to accuse the Arabs of lechery.316 However, Sa-
has disagrees and asserts that while John’s accusations concerning
the Ka‘ba are consistent with historical records and Christian po-
lemics in John’s day, John’s accusation is hypocrisy—not lechery.
John is pointing out that the Ishmaelites have no room to indict the
Christian for worshiping the cross in light of their Ka‘ba idolatry.317
4.4 The authenticity of M uhammad’s revelation
A second theme in the “Heresy of the Ishmaelites” worth examining
is the authenticity of Muhammad’s prophetic revelations. The shift
toward apologies and disputations, mentioned above in the second
chapter, is significant with regard to this topic. Hoyland writes that
prior to the late seventh century, the question of how to recognize a
true prophet “was scarcely considered by pre-Islamic Christian and
311 Constantine Prophyrogenitus, De administrando imperio, I, 14, ed. Moravcsik,
trans. R.J.H. Jenkins (Budapest, 1949), 78-79, cited in Meyendorff, “Byzantine
Views,” in Dubarton Oaks Center, 118.
312 Meyendorff, “Byzantine Views,” in Dumbarton Oaks Center, 119.
313 Swartley, 490.
314 Meyendorff, 119.
315 Ibid.
316 Ibid.
317 Sahas, John of Damascus, 88-89.
318 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 456.
319 Ibid., 55. Not to be confused with Cosmas, his Greek tutor.
320 Ibid., 54.
321 John Damascene, 153
322 Ibid., 154-55.
323 Sahas, John of Damascus, 79.
324 Beaumont, 197.
325 Ibid.
326 Ibid.
327 Ibid., 142-43
328 John Damascene, 263.
329 Ibid., 155.
330 Sahas, John of Damascus, 79.
331 Ibid.
332 John Damascene, 155.
333 Hoyland, Seeing Islam, 468-69. A triumphal ending is common in these apolo-
gies, which obviously puts the authenticity of the event they describe into question.
Yet the value lies in what they demonstrate about Christianity’s knowledge about
Islam and visa versa.
334 Sahas, John of Damascus, 81. Sahas suggests that this tract may have been in-
strumental in motivating the Islamic community to develop a defense for Muham-
mad’s prophethood based on the Old and New Testaments.
bines…He also made it legal to put away whichever wife one might
wish, and, should so one wish, to take to oneself another in the same
way. Mohammed had a friend named Zeid. This man had a beautiful
wife with whom Mohammed fell in love. Once, when they were sitting
together, Mohammed said: “Oh, by the way, God has commanded me to
take your wife.” The other answered, “You are an apostle. Do as God
has told you and take my wife.”335
John’s charge against Muhammad here is not surprising. Chris-
tians in John’s day understood the Old Testament allowance of po-
lygamy to be abrogated by the New Testament’s prohibition of the
practice.336 “Muhammad’s desire for many wives had to be seen as
evidence of a failure to obey the will of God.”337 Sahas points out
that the reference to Zeid’s wife is “a favorite subject for polemics.”
John is referencing surah 4, The Women (al-Nisa).338 Sahas defends
the Ishmaelite position regarding the text on marriage, insisting
that John has taken the passage out of context or failed to study it
enough to discuss it competently.339 The particular section John
Damascene is referencing is the third ayah, which reads:
If ye fear that ye shall not be able to deal justly with the orphans, marry
women of your choice, two or three or four; but if ye fear that ye shall
not be able to deal justly (with them). Then only one, or (a captive) that
your right hands possess. That will be more suitable, to prevent you
from doing injustice.340
Yusuf Ali and Sahas both comment that this permission was
given after the battle of Uhud when the Muslims were left with sev-
eral orphans, widows, and captives following the war.341 Though
the verse is taken out of context, neither Sahas nor Yusuf Ali defend
the permission to take four wives, but to say that monogamy is “the
335 John Damascene, 157.
336 Beaumont, 195.
337 Ibid.
338 Sahas, John of Damascus, 90.
339 Ibid., 90.
340 Yusuf Ali, 179.
341 Ibid. Also Sahas, John of Damascus, 90.
349 John Damascene, 159.
350 Ibid.
351 Yusuf Ali, 238.
352 Ibid., 279.
353 John Damascene, 159.
354 Ibid., 159-60.
355 Sahas, John of Damascus, 94.
356 Ibid.
357 John Damascene, 357.
358 Sahas, John of Damascus, 94.
359 Ibid., 95.
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